When you've just put your heart and soul (and a large amount of glitter) into the creation of a hand-painted Christmas tree decoration, you obviously need somewhere to hang it. So having spent the morning playing fayre at the nursery, Amelie and I settled down in the afternoon to prepare the flat for the festive season.

I'd already laid the groundwork by visiting Poundland for a load of tinsel, but you can't scrimp when it comes to baubles, so we'd gone upmarket and sourced those from Asda. After lunch, I visited the storage cupboard downstairs and retrieved our authentically pink tree (which simultaneously reminds us of Christmas time and breast cancer), and having put it together, Santa and his little helper began the job of decorating...


The first item to go on the tree was Amelie's hand-made decoration, which she declared to be "the most beautiful bauble in the world". Modesty never was her strong point. But having completed the lower branches of the family tree, it was time to throw the health & safety rulebook out the window, and get a bit more upwardly mobile...


It wasn't long before I realised that I had the potential to pay for Christmas 2011 with a £250 cheque from 'You've Been Framed', so I switched to video, in the hope of seeing Amelie fall off the chair and follow the route of the health & safety rulebook by taking the tree through the balcony window...


Sadly it didn't happen, so it's back to the credit card for another year.

With the Christmas tree done and dusted, Amelie moved on to the mirror...


She was already there, admiring her tiger face, so it didn't take much effort.

As the sun went down, the curtains were drawn and the lights came on, allowing us to admire the fruits of our labour...


What it lacks in symmetry at the bottom, it more than makes up for with cheap tinsel and plastic baubles. It's a triumph of Poundland style over upmarket substance.

It was a productive afternoon, and naturally with such an outstanding display of teamwork taking place, a bit of father-daughter bonding was inevitable. So with the living room successfully transformed into the Lidl Santa's grotto, the two of us sank onto the sofa, where Amelie spent the evening gazing lovingly into my eyes...


I feel like I'm being stared out by Bluebeard the Pirate.